Free Journey's End (Gilded Promises) by Renee Ryan Page A

He’d never met anyone quite like Caroline Harding. On the surface, she looked like every other young woman at the party. And yet, she didn’t fully fit in, either.
    The same could be said of the woman he’d met two weeks ago near the Bowery, a woman whose humble clothing had done nothing to hide her regal bearing.
    Who was she?
    Her story about nursing a frail immigrant she’d met aboard ship rang true. He’d seen her with the girl in question and had witnessed the care with which she’d guided her friend through the labyrinth of Orchard Street.
    Who was she?
    “I have never met anyone like you,” he admitted.
    His bluntness seemed to amuse her. “I’m afraid, Mr. Montgomery, I have heard that many times before.”
    He wanted to believe she was at this party for harmless reasons. He could not. “Who are you?”
    His tone came out more lethal for its softness.
    Her eyes widened a tiny fraction, enough to tell him he’d caught her momentarily off guard. She recovered quickly. “I am Caroline Harding, as I’ve already said.”
    He’d meant the question rhetorically. But her reaction had Jackson wondering if he’d been right to question her identity. “In a little over two weeks I have met two Caroline Hardings.”
    The music stopped, and she slowly stepped out of his arms. Again, an echo of the smile that had dazzled him the last time they’d met slipped across her lips. “That is precisely how I planned it, Mr. Montgomery.”
    She was admitting to being a fraud? Right here, in the middle of the Griffins’ ballroom? Surely Jackson had misunderstood her. “Is it, now? Explain yourself.”
    Her smile widened. The expression was far less innocent than before but just as beguiling. “Come, now, you can’t expect me to reveal all my secrets. A woman must be allowed a certain level of mystery.”
    He frowned.
    “Oh, bother. You Americans are so suspicious.” She released a long-suffering sigh. “My cousin is Patricia Harding of Boston, Massachusetts. She recently married one of your own, a Mr. Malcolm Green.”
    “I’m aware of the match.” He’d attended the wedding two months ago, with nearly five hundred other New Yorkers and just as many Bostonians. The blessed event had been one of the most talked about of the year and had been covered by every New York and Boston newspaper.
    How convenient that Caroline Harding would show up after the wedding, claiming to be related to the bride, a woman from Boston, not New York, who happened to be out of the country on her honeymoon.
    Jackson leaned toward her.
    He immediately drew back, shocked at his own behavior. Caroline Harding could be in New York for any number of reasons, some innocent, some not at all.
    Jackson had worked too hard to allow himself to make an error in judgment. He was close to putting the past behind him. Yet there he stood, in the middle of a ballroom, in front of all of New York society, wanting to uncover every one of this woman’s secrets. For all the wrong reasons.
    Swallowing hard, he offered his arm to Caroline.
    They left the dance floor in silence, neither attempting to speak again. Jackson was a man ruled by his mind, not his flesh.
    Before meeting Caroline Harding, he’d never understood how his father could abandon his responsibilities, his family , for a woman who wasn’t his wife. In his self-righteous anger, Jackson had always scorned Edward Montgomery’s actions, had always thought himself better than the man who’d sired him.
    Now, with Caroline’s hand resting lightly on his arm and his heartbeat drumming in his ears, Jackson wondered if he carried more of his father’s blood in his veins than he wanted to admit.
    No. Jackson was better than his father. This strange, unwanted attraction to Caroline was a momentary lapse, the proverbial cold feet. No other explanation made sense.
    No other explanation would be allowed to make sense.

    Unsure where he was leading her, Caroline let Jackson Montgomery escort her away